


bleed out in my veins

by eversall



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 2x08 Fix-it, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 06:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9871013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall
Summary: How do you stop loving someone? How do you separate your world from theirs, when you’ve been on a collision course since you were six and sharing crayons, your smiles so intertwined that death doesn’t separate you? How do you say goodbye?You don’t,Simon thinks dizzily, dropping to his knees in front of Raphael.You say hello to someone else..





	

**Author's Note:**

> so...am i just gonna be writing a fix-it for every episode from now on?
> 
> idk. there's a lot of stuff you can say about this episode. say what you will, though, the acting was exquisitely good. anyway, the spell the warlock puts on them to magnify their insecurities? i wish the episode had explained what simon, izzy, and raphael would have seen under the spell, and that's what this is.

Simon’s about to head back to Clary, sangria in one hand and a glass of O-neg in the other, when he sees it. It’s – he drops his glasses, and doesn’t even notice as whatever clever spell Magnus must have in place immediately whisks away the shards underfoot.

Because it’s _Raphael_.

It’s Raphael dressed in a sharp suit, his hair looking longer than usual. Raphael, his walk confident and purposeful, _Raphael_ , whose eyes are glinting with affection as he tucks a lock of hair behind Izzy’s ear. Simon feels a wave of misery crash over him, leaving him with a lump in his throat that he can’t shake. He swallows, backing away. He can’t – can’t watch this.

He turns and crashes into Clary, who looks equally as upset as him. She’s saying something about Maia, and he doesn’t quite understand, but he looks at her, his best friend, his rock. She’s so beautiful, both inside and out, and he’s always loved her but now – now he looks at Raphael and feels like someone’s knocked him clear off his feet.

.

Raphael doesn’t know why he’s here, at this party, but Magnus asked him to come and he’s not in the habit of refusing Magnus things. Even if his blood is boiling and he’s veering between high and low, his world going hazy with the Shadowhunter’s blood pumping through his vein. It feels like fire coating his veins, and it’s all he can do to keep his hands from shaking.

 _Fucking Shadowhunters_ , he thinks miserably, but he sees Izzy’s shaking hands out of the corner of his eyes and he closes his eyes briefly. It hurts to be reminded of the fact that he’s failed, she’s failed, and despite his best intentions everything is falling apart around him.

He suddenly _feels_ someone looking at him, and he opens his eyes, looking up to see – fuck, _Simon_. His hands start shaking harder, because Simon looks good, better than he ever did in Raphael’s suits, and he’s – he’s got his arm around Clary, his pose casual and relaxed. He looks completely in control of himself, and as Raphael watches Simon makes eye contact with him and raises his glass of blood sardonically, smirking at Raphael from across the room as he takes a sip, licks his lips, and then bends down and kisses Clary. He maintains his gaze on Raphael the whole time.

Raphael feels sick, sick, _sick_ , God, when does this _end_? When does this vicious cycle finish, when can he be free of Simon Lewis? He _wants_ so badly, and the blood is boiling in his veins and he can feel his fangs dropping, his head pounding as it violently wants _more_ , more of Isabelle’s silvery blood, more of _Simon_ –

.

Izzy’s sweating, her heart pounding as she looks around the room. Everything is swimming between her eyes, and her mother refuses to meet her gaze. There are whispers all around her, a murmur of _venom_ running through the crowd, the same way it runs through her body, the same way it coats her tongue and leaves her light-headed and heavy-hearted, she’s _dying_ , she’s more alive than ever, she’s floating above the room –

.

Simon _smells_ it before he sees her, can smell the distinct scent of Raphael’s blood, and he whirls around. They’re out on the balcony, and he doesn’t remember how they all got here but Alec is unconscious on the ground and Clary’s screaming, tears in her eyes. Jace has a haunted look in his eyes, an expression that’s mirrored on Maryse’s face, and what’s happening here? Why does everything feel oppressive and dark and silent –

There’s a sharp, spicy-sweet tang in the air, and he turns to see Raphael and Izzy wrapped in each other, their mouths sliding slick together. There’s blood on Raphael’s chin, blood across Izzy’s neck, blood everywhere, none in his veins but enough out there to take everyone he loves _away_ , he screams –

.

Raphael can’t _think_ , can’t hear himself over the din of everyone fighting, and he sinks to his knees, groaning, his head in his hands. Before this week he’s never had a drop of the half-angels’ blood, and now he’s full to bursting with it, the thrill of it curling around the edges of his mind and pushing everything else out. It’s too _much_ , it’s singing to him, and he makes another low noise in his throat, opening his eyes sluggishly to see Simon laughing, leaning against the railing and staring at Raphael as everyone around them continues to destroy each other.

 _Weak_ , Simon taunts, _weak, couldn’t resist the allure of a pretty Shadowhunter_.

It wasn’t _like_ that, Raphael wants to scream, she _ambushed_ me, she collided our worlds together and I couldn’t let go of it, crimson, sangria, staring at me –

_Do you think she tastes as good as I did?_

.

Izzy is shaking, shaking apart at the seams. The world is beautiful, sharp and bright and crystal clear. Too clear, the edges cutting like diamonds, like seraph blades, like Clary when she doesn’t even _look_ at Izzy, too engrossed in Simon. Mom is so _regal_ in the moonlight, and Izzy backs away because it’s the same sharp nose, the same dark eyes, the same haughty lips, and when did she and Maryse become the same person?

 _Duty_ , Mom whispers, sparing a glance at Izzy, _you will never understand it_.

She only took the yin fen because she wanted so badly to be _good_ , and if she had known that it would tear her apart and put her back together in all the wrong ways she would have shoved the entire thing down Victor Aldertree’s throat, and instead now she has freshly healed bite marks right underneath her first rune, so much like Max, Max who’ll never be like her, and she is _screaming_ –

.

 _Not my family_ , Magnus thinks, his eyes blazing as he takes in everyone he loves fighting. _You cannot have them_.

.

Izzy gasps, clutching her hand to her chest and feeling like she’s just resurfaced from drowning.

“Iz?” Clary asks uncertainly. Everyone looks as bewildered as Izzy feels, and Izzy doesn’t think – she runs forward and pulls Clary into a hug, her hands still shaking. She can feel the venom still in her system, but it’s not as overwhelming as before, when everything felt amplified.

“Iz.” Clary repeats, her voice warm as Izzy buries her face in Clary’s hair. Izzy sways for a second; she wants to remember this, remember all the good things in the world. The way Clary smiles, Simon’s excited rambling, Alec’s sly teasing, the first time Jace called her his sister, Max happily following her around, _Mom_ – Mom, braiding her hair when she was ten and telling her that _Izzy, you are so strong, my daughter, my princess, stronger than I have ever been_.

She didn’t understand then, the fine tremor of anguish in her mother’s voice, but now she knows, knows all the things her mother wanted to hide, and it is difficult but they are still mother and daughter. It’s enough.

“Mom.” She says, her voice trembling as she disentangles herself from Clary and approaches her mother slowly. “Mom, I need – “

Her mother opens her arms, and Izzy falls into them, her heart breaking and reforming as her mother whispers _Isabelle_.

.

Simon looks up, a fog lifting from his head and the world swimming back into focus. He looks around, wildly, and there –

Raphael is on the ground. He looks disheveled and miserable, not the way Simon remembers him walking into the party. He’s nowhere near Izzy, and Simon feels something certain settle into his bones.

“Clary,” He murmurs, turning to her, and she’s watching Izzy with a confused look on her face, her eyes straying every so often to Jace. His heart aches; she’s beautiful, inside and out, and he will always love her, but he cannot be her lover. He _knows_ he can’t. “Clary, I - .”

“Go.” She whispers, turning to him, her eyes glassy even as she smiles. It’s her real smile, the one that makes her eyes crinkle at the corners, and there’s a hitch in her voice as she lays her hand over Simon’s unbeating heart and says to him, “You’ll always be mine, and I’ll always be yours, and I will never hold you back for that.”

“I love you.” He tells her.

“I know.” She responds, “Oh Simon, I _know_.” She glances back at Raphael, and repeats it a third time, _I know_ , her voice soft and heartbreaking.

How do you stop loving someone? How do you separate your world from theirs, when you’ve been on a collision course since you were six and sharing crayons, your smiles so intertwined that death doesn’t separate you? How do you say goodbye?

 _You don’t_ , Simon thinks dizzily, dropping to his knees in front of Raphael. _You say hello to someone else_.

.

Raphael feels cool fingers on his cheeks, his lips, his eyes. His shoulder shake, his throat working as a dizzy haze of confusion lifts from his head. He still _aches_ , but it’s different now, more painful than maddening, and he doesn’t know what’s happening but all he can think about is that he’s a _monster_ , again.

 _Raphael_ , someone is saying, _Raphael_. He peers up, and in the space of a heartbeat he’s looking at the Simon _he_ knows once again, the other boy’s eyes warm, if shaken.

“Simon,” he breathes out, and then he growls around his fangs, because he can’t retract them. They lie heavy in his mouth, and it feels like he’s trying to talk around the weight of all his sins, _God_ , he took another person’s blood –

He swore he was never going to be that man again, he _swore_.

“I can smell you in Izzy.” Simon whispers to him, the words meant only for their ears. Raphael lets out a dry sob in response, his body wracked with shudders as another wave of pain goes through him. “You drank from her.”

 _Made me_ , Raphael wants to say, wants to _scream_ from the rooftops, _made me because someone else made her do the same_.

“Aldertree.” Simon whispers, searching Raphael’s face. Raphael pitches forward, burying his face in Simon’s neck and trying to drown in the smell, wishing he could breathe enough to suffocate in it.

“Yes.” Raphael whispers back, and it must be explanation enough for Simon because he wraps his arms around Raphael and hauls him up, his hands strong and solid as he holds Raphael. There’s a pounding headache in his head, the dull ache settling in somewhere deep in his skull, and he thinks he’ll never be rid of it.

 _It’s my turn to save you_ , Simon breathes against Raphael, and Raphael is looking up at the moon when Simon bites him for the first time, and his eyes fly open, his senses alight with _Simon_ –

Simon, smiling in the dark, a flash of teeth and overeager eyes; Simon, his hand steady in Raphael’s and their bodies curled together under the blankets; Simon, mouth turned down in sharp regret, Simon half-mad for blood, Simon licking his lips, Simon looking at Raphael, _Simon looking at Raphael_.

“Why now?” Raphael manages to gasp out. He means to say, why here, out on this balcony with everyone still making their amends with each other, why here where a warlock is loose wreaking havoc, why here with _him_ , as if there’s something worth saving here. Simon slowly pulls his fangs out, the wound puckering and closing over across Raphael’s neck as he leans their foreheads together, pale color in his cheeks as Raphael’s blood, intermingled with Izzy’s, flows through him.

 _Why not_? Simon murmurs. _I’m trying_.

 _Is it worth it_?

Always, Raphael thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> come prompt me on [ tumblr ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/)


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